


The Beast Within

by RedheadedDragon



Series: The Beast Within [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 23:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5645176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedheadedDragon/pseuds/RedheadedDragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vilkas is frustrated and decides to go hunting alone and finds himself dealing with the frustration in a way he didn't intend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beast Within

Vilkas’s mouth watered as he sat down at the table in the mead hall, his eyes trained on the roasted leg of goat in front of him and the large goblet of mead to the side. He had been on the move since late last night when he had been sent out on a rescue mission, something he was very good at. He tended to work those alone, always finding that having someone with him slowed him down or they’d inadvertently set off a trap or be seen because they had no concept of moving stealthily. He shoved a piece of meat in his mouth followed by a swallow of mead and watched the others around the hall; he found himself bored with most of the goings on lately and looked for anything to get him out of Jorrvaskr. The chair next to him scraped on the floor as it was pulled out and his twin Farkas sat down heavily, “Hey, Vilkas,” he said as he grabbed a piece of bread and bit off a piece. “You see the new blood?” 

Vilkas looked at his brother and a low growl rumble through his chest. “No, I haven’t.” 

Farkas put the bread down, meeting his twin’s irritated gaze. “Forget it, brother. Get some sleep, maybe then you’ll be more agreeable.” He got up and went out the door to the back patio, grumbling about his brother’s foul mood. 

Vilkas turned his attention back to his food in front of him, hungrily devouring it and chasing it down with mead. Once he had his fill he ventured down to the living quarters of the Companions; he ignored the others that lingered downstairs before they headed up to start their days as he made his way to his room. He collapsed upon his bed after removing his armor, throwing his arm across his eyes. He thought of his brother’s seemingly good mood and found himself wondering what could have made him that way. At least one of us seemed to be satisfied with life at the moment, he thought to himself. His eyes grew heavily with sleep and soon his room was filled with sounds of his snores reverberating off of the walls. 

He woke up several hours later, not at all rested and still in a foul mood. He was tempted to go back on his promise that he would fight the bestial yearnings within him just to have some release from his pent up frustrations. As he lay in his bed listening to the sounds outside his room, he contemplated grabbing a bow and a quiver full of arrows and go hunting. After hearing the laughter of his twin from across the hall and the scent of what he assumed was the new blood he had spoken of, he decided to go and tempt his bestial cravings by hunting. He pulled his armor on over his clothing and walked out of his room. At the same time he was stepping out of his room, the door to his brother’s room opened to show Farkas exiting with a young Breton with brown hair and hazel eyes. Her scent assailed him and he wished that his brother had left the door closed just five minutes longer. There was a primal hunger to her scent that made him very aware of her presence and he inwardly groaned, reminded of his own primal desires. 

He made his way upstairs and ventured out of the ancient mead hall of the legendary Companions. The sun was starting to set casting beautiful hues against the sky, but his mind was only on the hunt. He exited the gates of Whiterun, merely nodding to the guards as he contemplated on where he was going to hunt. He found himself headed toward the woods south of the city and listened to the sounds of wildlife around him. He saw a couple of giants near their fire and could smell flesh being roasted upon the flames; he crept silently around their camp, careful to not make a sound that would alert them of his presence. He worked his way further into the woods, seeking out a spot he had come across some months back where he could watch his prey while carefully hidden by the trees around him. Once there, he made himself comfortable and listened to the sounds around him. He found himself thinking about his frustrations as of late and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew where they came from. He had been denying all of the primal instincts he had in an effort of controlling the beast blood within him and in so doing he was denying himself the basic needs of any person; he was no monk, that was for sure. He thought of his brother and the new blood and knew that Farkas indulged in his own needs to stave off the turning; whereas Vilkas was more brain than his brother’s brawn, Farkas was far better at controlling those animal instincts than he was. 

His sensitive ears picked up the snapping of twigs and the crunching of leaves; he picked up his bow and nocked an arrow slowly, drawing the string back and held his breath. His eyes searched for the cause of the sounds while he gingerly sniffed the air. He closed his eyes and swore under his breath, the scent teasing his nostrils and stirring the beast within. He watched as the young Breton lithely made her way towards him, her footing sure as she ventured closer and closer. He sighed knowing that his solitude was about to be intruded upon and grumbled to himself about now having to play babysitter with this new blood. She must have heard him for she suddenly looked up and found herself staring at him watching her. “Following me, whelp?” he snarled. 

She shook her head, her eyes slightly widened. “I was tracking some wolves; Aela sent me out to get her some wolf pelts.” 

He eyed her, smelled the confusion that wafted off of her and sighed again. “Well you’re not going to find any wolves standing there where they can all see you. Come up here by me and be quiet.” He saw her hesitate then slowly start up the incline to his hiding spot, reaching up to a tree to help pull herself up then she sat next to him. Her scent assailed his nose again, slightly flowery but musky; he tried to ignore the overly feminine scent. They sat there in silence for nearly an hour, barely moving, watching and waiting. He reached over to where he laid his pack and opened it up, fishing out some bread and salted meat and a flask of mead. He broke the bread in half and handed her a piece then offered her some of the meat saying, “We should find a different spot to hunt from, outside a few rabbits, there’s not much here, but we should eat something first, keep our energy up.” 

She looked at the older Companion, taking the bread and meat from him with thanks, then began to eat in silence. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noticing her well-toned muscular build and her shapely frame. She wore clothing made of hide, a dagger on her hip and a quiver of arrows on her back, her bow laying on the ground beside her. Her brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail showing off her naked neck; he found himself idly wondering if her skin tasted as good as she smelled and forced himself to think of something else. He took a long pull off the flask then offered it to her, “Thirsty, whelp?” 

“I have a name,” she said as she took the flask from him. She took a swig of the mead and handed it back to him. 

He looked at her, a smirk slowly forming on his lips. “Tell me then, what do I call you, new blood?” 

She stared at him, irritation written on her face. “Sariah, my name is Sariah.” 

“Then perhaps I shall call you that, but for now you are still a new blood and have to prove yourself.” 

She glared at him. “You’re an asshole.” She went to stand up but lost her footing and slipped. 

Vilkas, already standing, caught ahold of her before she fell to the ground. “I might be an asshole,” he growled at her, “but I have watched many walk through the doors of Jorrvaskr trying to make a name for themselves amongst us and I have watched many of them walk right back out because they couldn’t hack it. Until you prove yourself worthy of being one of us, you’re nothing more than a whelp to me.” 

She yanked her arm back from him and hissed, “At least Farkas and the others have made me feel welcome.” She made to storm off past him. 

Vilkas reacted suddenly, the beast within waking with a vengeance. He grabbed a hold of her and pulled her close to him; he glared into her eyes, a fire burning deep inside of him. “What kind of welcome did you expect from me? Perhaps one like how my brother welcomed you?” Her eyes were wide, but he smelled something other than fear emanating off of her; he smelled excitement and his primal blood roared to life. He crushed his mouth upon hers, his tongue forcefully exploring the warmth of her mouth. He heard soft whimpers coming from her as his hand found its way underneath the top of her clothing and grabbed her breast, squeezing it roughly then finding the nipple and pinching it until she cried out, her voice muffled against his kiss. A growl rumbled through his throat as the beast demanded satisfaction; he had lost the battle for control. He pushed against her with his body until he had her pinned against the side of the mountain, both of their breathing coming fast and heavy now. He reached under the hide skirt she wore and started to massage the mound of her womanhood until he could feel his fingers getting wet as her own desire was stroked into a raging fire. He watched her face as he played with the nub of her sex, enjoying how she caught her breath whenever he tweaked it. He started to slip his finger inside her but suddenly stopped short. He stared into her face as she looked at him, her eyes pleading for him not to stop. “You’re still a maiden?” She nodded in response, biting her bottom lip. The primal beast inside demanded to not be ignored, the man he was demanded he regain control. The two sides of himself warred within his mind until he saw her eyes again, silently pleading to finish what he had started and the wolf in him took control. 

He hastily undid his own armor as he pressed his lips onto hers once more then stripped her of her clothing. He stepped back, put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her onto her knees. He thrust his cock into her mouth, a loud groan escaping his mouth as she obediently started to suckle upon his member. He placed both of his hands on the back of her head and started to thrust in and out of her mouth, her tongue running alongside the bottom of his shaft and flicking over the tip of his dick. He felt himself getting harder but he was not going to allow himself to climax by the use of her mouth alone. He pulled back, holding her head away from his stiff organ. He saw a boulder a few feet away and told her to go sit on it with her legs spread to which she obediently did. He stood there, stroking himself as he gazed at her nakedness; he approached her and with his free hand he stuck a finger partially inside her, rubbing the inner walls of her womanhood. He kneeled in front of her, the scent of her juices wafting over him; she shivered as his tongue flicked the folds of her womanhood, teasing her with just a brush of ecstasy until he thrust his tongue within her, tasting her and making her squirm. He continued to tease her with his tongue until a wave of convulsions rocked her body and he was rewarded with a flood of juices gushing into his mouth. He greedily lapped at her, enjoying the taste of her until he could taste her no more. He stood in front of her again, watching her breasts moving up and down as she tried to catch her breath after her climax and started to stroke himself again. He ordered her to get on her hands and knees, then positioned himself behind her. He slipped his finger into her again and played with her sex until she started dripping with anticipation once more. He grabbed a hold of her hips and thrust his cock deep into her; her head thrust back as she let loose a scream as he broke her hymen, but she immediately started rocking back and forth meeting his thrusts with the same urgency he was giving her. She panted out his name between moaning and pleading for more from him driving him lustfully insane. “That’s it, whelp, take it, take it all” he said in ragged breaths. He gripped her hips harder, his thrusts became more forceful and demanding and coming faster and faster. A loud cry came from her as she climaxed again, this time much harder than before. This triggered Vilkas’s own climax as he started to grunt with each quickening thrust until his body went rigid and his load pumped into her. He pulled out from her and collapsed onto the ground next to her; as he turned onto his back he reached over and drew Sariah close to him. He buried his face into her hair which had come loose during their sex and breathed in her scent, satisfied and content. “Is that a better welcome for you, whelp?” 

“Much better, asshole.” 

He kissed the back of her neck, feeling her heart race beneath his lips. “Good,” he breathed against her skin. “Should you ever need reminding, feel free to see me and I will do everything in my power to remedy that problem.”


End file.
